


now a traveler came to the rich man

by Ford_Ye_Fiji



Series: and love will be your teacher [14]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Again some very slight maiko, Alternate Universe, Fluff ish, Gen, I don’t know what to tag, I love that we have a tag for that, Ozai (Avatar) is an Asshole, Plot, its like one or two sentences, obviously
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-21
Updated: 2019-11-21
Packaged: 2021-02-18 07:27:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21507409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ford_Ye_Fiji/pseuds/Ford_Ye_Fiji
Summary: We briefly catch up with Ozai.Zuko and co. reaches Ember Island.
Series: and love will be your teacher [14]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1511504
Comments: 34
Kudos: 984
Collections: Finished111





	now a traveler came to the rich man

Zuko was no great loss.

He remembered thinking that. And Zuko wasn't a loss. His son  _was_ a failure and a disappointment. It was the way in which  _he left_ that stung.

Loudly.

Obviously.

_Defiantly_ .

And not only that... Not only that, but Azula had left with him. Azula. His heir. The only one worthy enough, the only one who even had a chance to live up to his greatness.

And she had betrayed him.

Betrayed him  _for Zuko._

The pitiful whelp. What made  _him_ better? What made others flock to his cause? Didn’t they see how pathetic he was? How weak he was compared to him? What made him more worthy than he?

(And perhaps he wasn’t talking about his son anymore, perhaps he was talking about his brother now- but that was a matter Ozai was not willing or ready to address now or perhaps ever.)

Worst of all, was not that others has chosen Zuko over him, no, that was just icing on the cake. Worst of all, Azula had chosen Zuko over him. Azula, his most loyal supporter. _His_ most favored subject. His own daughter.

If she could turn against him, there was no telling who else would betray him.

It was so easy to buy a man these days. That had been to his advantage once, but now, now it made him sweat. It made him lie awake at night and listen. Listen to the gossip floating around the capitol. It made him toss and turn.

He couldn’t sleep.

He couldn’t think.

Not when  _they_ were whispering. Whispering about how he was weak. How Zuko would take  _his_ throne. How Zuko would take his  _rightful_ place as Fire Lord.

He couldn’t let that happen. Never.

Zuko was nothing, _nothing_ compared to him!

And anyone who said otherwise, who so much as  _thought_ otherwise, wouldn’t live much longer to regret it.

* * *

Zuko sulked, mourning the loss of his Phoenix tail. Mai hadn’t let him keep it much longer after they set sail. She told him it was too recognizable. She was right of course. It didn’t make it hurt any less and it felt very final, cutting it off and tossing it overboard.

Now, on Ember Island, his hair was slowly growing back over his pale head and raw skin. The skin surrounding his eye felt itchy under his bandage but he refused to scratch it, cheek twitching with irritation.

Ty Lee bounced beside him as the ship slowly docked, moving into the bustling port, "I can’t believe we're finally here!" Zuko's brows furrowed, mouth twisting. Yes, thank goodness they were here. Now every single member of the fire nation knew where they were. Or, any who recognized them did. It was true that he didn’t have any idea if Ozai had sent out wanted posters or not, but it was better safe than sorry. Particularly because it was a pretty safe bet that Ozai wouldn’t just let them get away from him so easily.

Mai came to stand beside him, breaking him out of his thoughts, "Thank Agni. Now I don’t have to pretend to be your girlfriend anymore. The next person who says that we make such a 'cute couple' I’m going to stab."

The corners of Zuko's mouth turned up, "That would be a sight to see."

Mai blinked with surprise, flushing.

Captain Po had been one of those people. He’d told them they were delightfully charming and that they reminded him of his son and his now-wife. Zuko had been hilariously flustered, stuttering over his words. Mai had held herself back with impressive restraint, even though her lower lip had jutted out and her eyes had narrowed with dangerous anger. Still, Captain Po had been nice other than that. Sometimes jolly, sometimes firm, a good captain with enough experience under his belt to know the seas well. His grey hairs were evidence of that.

Azula interrupted his thoughts, placing her hands on the rail and breathing in the salty sea air, "Zuko, before we go to the old family place, we're going into town. We need to pick up a few things." She put her hands on her hips, "I’ve been wearing these clothes  way too long."

Zuko hissed, folding his arms, "Azula what if we get caught? What if someone recognizes us?"

"Pssh!" Azula waved her hands, "As if! It’s been years. No one will remember us."

Ty Lee giggled, legs swinging as she sat on the deck's railing, "I don’t think anyone would forget you, Azula. You usually leave an impression."

Azula flipped her hair, almost preening, "Well, yes, I do."

Zuko sighed, crossing his arms, "That isn’t exactly reassuring."

Mai shrugged, "Well, I want to at least pick up some things before we sequester ourselves from civilization for however long we have planned."

Zuko's lips twisted but he relented, "Fine. But let’s not linger too long."

Not staying too long turned into shopping until lunch time with the last of their borrowed money. Ty Lee said borrowed, Azula said stolen. Zuko knew his sister was right. There was no way that they would be able to return the money.

While Mai and Azula squabbled over what they should get for lunch, Ty Lee trying to help them reach a compromise, Zuko wandered off. He couldn’t help it, it had been ten minutes already and they showed no signs of stopping anytime soon.

An old man sat with a pai sho board in the corner of the shop, idly moving pieces. Zuko couldn’t help but remember his father. Memories of Iroh were bittersweet and it tugged at somewhere deep inside him. The man must’ve noticed his suddenly intense staring. He paused and looked up, smiling kindly, "Would you like to play? Guests get the first move."

Zuko found himself nodding, the lump in his throat growing.

He sat down carefully, eyeing the board. He remembered how Iroh always insisted on playing. How did his silly proverb go? He could hear Iroh's voice in his memories, warm and well traveled, " _When in a tight spot, the white lotus tile is your most valuable piece, my son._ " He could almost feel the breeze on his face, smell the cherry blossoms in bloom, and taste honeyed tea on his lips. For a brief second, he could recall his father's full-bellied laugh and fond soft almost-sigh, " _Oh Zuko. You are too honorable for a game such as this._ " That was usually in response to Zuko's failure when Iroh employed certain cutthroat strategies. Zuko tended not to sacrifice any piece on his board, even if he knew one was necessary. It just didn’t feel right to him.

He shook away his memories and did as Iroh would’ve done, reaching for the white lotus tile and placing it firmly in the center of the board. The old man froze. He seemed to pale, taking him completely in for the first time. Zuko felt uneasy, at the man's sudden scrutiny, "I see you favor the white lotus gambit. Not many still cling to the ancient ways."

Zuko tilted his head, studying the board, "My father liked it." He didn’t know why he was telling the stranger this.

The old man placed a piece carefully, "Your... father?"

Zuko nodded, hands hovering over the next tile. The old man seemed curious, "How would your father play?"

Zuko crossed his arms almost sullenly, "Well. Sometimes he played in a way that didn’t make any sense. To be honest, I think he just liked forming pretty pictures on the board."

"I think I know what you mean. Please, show me?"

Zuko shrugged, "Alright." He carefully placed the tiles in order, he glanced up as the old man began to place his pieces as well. When he noticed Zuko stopping, he waved his hand, "No, no, don't mind me. Continue."

Zuko frowned, but returned to the pieces. He was having a bit of difficulty remembering where they went. It had been nearly two months since the horrific coup, and even longer than that since Iroh had had time to play pai sho under the cherry trees with him. Swallowing back the lump in his throat, he returned his attention to the game. Where had that last piece gone? Ah, yes.

He put it down with a click. His eyes widened as he realized the old man had finished the rest of the board. Zuko blinked, realizing the pieces formed a lotus, the white lotus tile squarely in the center, "Huh. Father didn’t tell me I was supposed to  _complete_ the board."

The old man smiled sadly, "It is a very old and ancient way of playing. I’m not surprised he didn’t." He half-bowed at Zuko, "Thank you for indulging an old man."

Zuko bowed reflexively, "It was a good game. Er, I mean, picture?"

The old man chuckled and Zuko's insides twisted in how similar it was to Iroh. Mai called for him, making him forget the bitter reminder, "Zuko! Come order!"

He stood, "Sorry I guess there's no time for an actual game."

The old man smiled good-naturedly, eyes warm, "Maybe next time."

Zuko returned to his group, quickly entering their passionate debate of mango versus papaya. The old man's smile dropped. Someone in the order had lost their son. He didn’t know who, but it was dangerous to have a child knowing bits of their secrets wandering around the Fire Nation. He would have to send word and hope that someone knew who they were.

He would not find out until six weeks later, when a fire nation solider and an old man entered the shop. The old man with tired eyes and a large grey beard would place a white lotus tile firmly in the center of the board, and ask plaintively when he had last seen his son.

But that was not for a long while and, for the moment, the old man watched the group of children and quietly played pai sho. 


End file.
